Endlessly
by saphirablossom
Summary: Fuji was always one in search of something interesting enough to satisfy his need for a thrilling experience. As such, he had no qualms with observing the one individual capable of catering that interest in his one moment of vulnerability: in his sleep.


_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Prince of Tennis'. Most unfortunately for us all, it's the exclusive property of Takeshi Konomi-san... _

_This drabble was supposed to be a part of a series of Thrill Pair drabbles that in turn, were supposed to get rid of my writer's block... I'm calling this a test run, so I hope you enjoy it!_

_**~ Endlessly ~**_

_by saphirablossom_

In his lifetime, Fuji Syuusuke had often said, and about many things, that they were profoundly interesting. And they were; at least at the time, they'd seemed so. Most unfortunately for Fuji, most things tended to lose their initial interest in his eyes the second he managed to either decipher them completely, or surpass them. His past opponents on the courts could testify that, as they were nothing more than play things, there to try and satisfy his unquenchable thirst for a thrilling, unadulterated experience. Which hardly ever came, except on a few rare occasions. Such rare occasions came to Fuji in the form of people such as Tezuka, Seigaku's esteemed captain, Shiraishi, Shitenhouji's captain and his 'bible tennis', or even perhaps Yukimura, Rikkai Dai's infamous 'child of god'. However, nothing could possibly be more fascinating than what lay sprawled out before him. A complete mystery that Fuji would give almost anything to decipher.

As Fuji Syuusuke lay sitting up straight in his bed, the room lit by a soft, dim light, his cerulean eyes closely inspected the figure softly snoring beside him, apparently indulging in a rather pleasant dream, by the looks of it. He couldn't help but wonder, in that one instance, just what it was Echizen Ryoma was dreaming about. After all, Ryoma couldn't possibly hold the title of Fuji's greatest interest if he was only an enigma in his awakened state. Ryoma was an individual that remained mysterious and shrouded in unclear intentions, even in his sleep, much to Fuji's pleasure.

One could never be entirely certain of what the younger man was thinking about. And in this case, dreaming about. Fuji sometimes enjoyed himself by indulging in a rather peculiar pass-time: imagining Ryoma lost in Wonderland, just as Alice had been in the story. Of course, it was quite possible that such a thought could have come from his profound love of western literature: the 'creepy and morbid' type, as his darling brother Yuuta had once put it. And sometimes, like tonight, Fuji felt the almost uncontrollable urge to ask his lover one particular question that burned his tongue in those few instances:

"My Alice, what do those glassed eyes of yours see? Won't you tell me your little secrets...?"

And though Fuji watched his lover intently on these instances, never once did he get an answer. Or at least, not a clear one. On nights like this one, where Ryoma smiled pleasantly in his sleep, Fuji would often catch himself smiling contently back at him as well, pleased to see his lover happy, regardless of whatever it was that made Ryoma smile in such a warm and endearing way.

However, on those very rare nights when Ryoma's handsome face would contort into a pained grimace, his dream fading into a nightmare, Fuji would feel his heart tighten at the very sight, though never would Seigaku's tensai admit it openly, unless he was coaxed to do so by a select few individuals. Emotions, true and raw, were always fickle when it came to Fuji, ever changing and never quite determined, as they were as unpredictable and varied as the wind itself: however each time, they always burned with an intensity that rivaled that of a wild fire. And almost always, Ryoma was the catalyst of said emotions.

Fuji softly touched his lover's cheek, stroking the soft skin with the back of his hand in an almost feather-like touch, a gentle smile plastered onto his face. And the next thing he knew, he was slowly laying himself back to bed, content with the night's observations. After all, he had other nights to observe Ryoma: in fact, he had an eternity of nights to lay and watch his very own living mystery wander about in the realm of dreams. Fuji literally lived for the thrill of discovering just who Ryoma was in every single aspect imaginable, he lived to constantly take on the daily challenge that was, and always would be Ryoma, and would gladly wait for those other nights, if he could live that thrill again and again.

"Once again, you don't answer, but one day Ryoma, you will. I can assure you that, love..."

_So... what do you think? I hope I've done this relatively well, considering this is the first drabble I've ever written. Normally, let's just say that I'm entirely incapable of writing anything that's considered 'short'..._

_I'm hoping for some good feed-back here, since I'm trying to see if I've finally nailed Fuji's character: I'm pretty sure most people will agree with me when I say that my first story 'These Untimely Questions', made Fuji as OOC as he can get! Though for those who read that one, I will update, I just need to sort out a few things first. Namely, a big writer's block_

_So... I'm really looking forward to your constructive criticism so that I can improve on writing an in character Fuji. I suppose even flames are acceptable as long as they specify what can be done to improve..._


End file.
